


A Halo & A Demonic Tail

by SylviaW1991



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Consensual Sex, Crowley has whatever you want (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, PWP, Vibrators, Voyeurism, but Crowley's in there too, exploring kinks, mostly Aziraphale's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylviaW1991/pseuds/SylviaW1991
Summary: It was no secret that Crowley liked to watch Aziraphale enjoying himself. Even with his sunglasses covering his eyes, there was never any mistaking where his gaze was when they went to eat.Except Crowley thinks he wants to watch Aziraphale experiencing a different kind of pleasure. If his angel's amenable, of course, and how can Aziraphale deny his demon anything?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 196
Collections: Top Crowley Library





	A Halo & A Demonic Tail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhiteleyFoster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/gifts).



> No beta for this one. All mistakes are mine and will probably be corrected eventually. Just had to get this out of my system XD

It was no secret that Crowley liked to watch Aziraphale enjoying himself. Even with his sunglasses covering his eyes, there was never any mistaking where his gaze was when they went to eat. Aziraphale’s enjoyment of food was too wholehearted to be ignored, the way he was able to feel and express himself so fully a constant feast for serpentine eyes.

It should’ve been no surprise that it would be the same in bed or couch or bath or against the wall. Unleashed, the angel’s pleasure was overwhelming. Sometimes, in the thick of things, Crowley would lose track of what exactly his hips, lips, hands were doing because his gaze would just be _caught_ by all that blinding thrill and he’d be entranced. Until Aziraphale would speak or nudge him into continuing, anyway. Aziraphale thought he was just into orgasm denial - which, yes, he wasn’t wrong as he did like to watch his angel hovering at the edge and liked to make it happen again and again - but it was the _watching_ that got to him.

And, by Someone, he was going to get an eyeful if Aziraphale was amenable to the plan. They did have quite a history of diverting plans, after all.

Kiss-swollen lips pursed just a little, Aziraphale studied the offerings Crowley miracled into the bedroom. He could appreciate the white and gold aesthetic of the, ah, vibrator and remote for their irony. He knew this wily serpent too well not to expect it, really. When they’d tried handcuffs, Crowley had added little wings to the white feathery poof of them. It was adorable, really, though hardly the context for such a word.

“You just want to watch?” he clarified, waiting patiently for Crowley’s snake-like sounds to form actual words.

“Voyeurisssm,” he eventually hissed.

Aziraphale flipped through a mental catalog of terms he’d begun to study when things between them had reached a... conjugally physical level. There seemed to be no limits to the things the two of them could get up to, considering the unlimited potentials of adjusting their corporations and their truer forms. And this, he realized, was one of the simpler things.

“Oh. You very much want to just watch.”

Lovely color blossomed high on Crowley’s cheeks and he nodded eagerly, then paused. “Sssome touching,” he amended.

Sometimes they both got caught up in the difficulties of asking for what they wanted - both of them once denied by duty and sides and worries of punishment for the other were they to be caught. For Crowley, the asking was even more difficult than it tended to be for Aziraphale. Six thousand years of the angel reminding himself that Crowley was a demon, bad, opposite, not his friend - well, six thousand years of that took its toll. But they were getting better.

And of course Aziraphale was going to reward every bit of progress. He was an angel, after all.

Smiling, he began to undo his bowtie and knew Crowley was watching his fingers. He wanted to have him remove his sunglasses, eager for those golden eyes. Six thousand years of being trained by humanity to see them as less than perfect had done their damage as well, but Aziraphale loved them. He’d loved them from the first, but he wouldn't ask for them to be unveiled. Crowley was doing enough to earn favor this night. 

“I think I would be amenable to you being a voyeur.” The bowtie slid away and he rose from the bed to begin undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. “With some touching. What is it you’d like to do, darling? Prepare me?”

They both shivered. It was a yes. 

“I think I’d like that very much,” Aziraphale murmured, fingers going to the buttons of his pale blue button-up next. Though Crowley’s head barely moved, he knew his gaze was following every single flick of his fingers. Every single fresh bit of skin being unveiled. It made him just a touch self-conscious. As much as he liked his body - rolls and curves and softness and not at all like a soldier’s ought to be - he knew that it wasn’t exactly, ah, everyone’s cup of tea. Through the millenia, beauty standards had changed so drastically and Crowley had always been one to ride the waves of the changing times. 

Halfway down, his fingers fumbled and Crowley’s chin lifted immediately. He’d noticed, of course he had, and he understood. The sunglasses were removed. Aziraphale’s breath caught at the sight of his eyes, how golden they were, how _molten_ with want. Silly, he thought. Silly to think Crowley would do anything less than desire him. 

“Want help?” he asked, always amenable to getting his fingers on Aziraphale's rows upon rows of buttons. 

“No,” he decided after a moment, resuming his path. He untucked his shirt to finish undoing buttons. “I think I’d like to watch you, ah, watch. If that’s alright.”

“Yesss.” It was stunningly alright. Crowley crossed his legs, tipped forward just a bit. Like a magnet unable to resist Aziraphale’s pull. He wet his lips when he unhooked his trousers, and nearly choked on his own tongue when he realized very quickly that there wasn’t a stitch underneath them. “ _Angel_.”

He nearly preened, quite proud of himself for miracling his underthings away when they’d first entered the room. “Just taking a page out of your book, my dear.” 

“Right.” Crowley lifted a hand, snapping, and everything else miracled away. Not far, Aziraphale noted, pleased to see them neatly folded on a nearby chair, but it certainly left him exposed to that hungry gaze. “Come on, angel.”

Aziraphale followed the beckoning of his hand, crawling into bed and settling himself in Crowley’s lap. There was something uniquely erotic about his skin brushing against fabric, his cock brushing against the cold metal of a belt buckle. “Oh my,” he breathed before his breath was stolen by Crowley’s kiss.

Crowley lapped into his mouth as if chasing the leftover genoise Aziraphale had been enjoying downstairs or the syrupy strawberries which had topped the decadent buttercream frosting. The tart and sweet combination had been positively scrummy, but was nothing like this. The moist richness of the cake couldn’t hope to compare to the way Crowley’s tongue moved over his. The sumptuous flavors found here were like nothing any chef could mimic, dark and sharp here, light and sweet there.

Aziraphale drank him down like wine, his protest a despairing groan when the kiss ended. “Hands and knees,” Crowley whispered, and there was a moment where Aziraphale could’ve ignored him. He could’ve gripped his hair, mussed the neat way he’d tied shoulder-length locks back into a half-bun, and taken another kiss. Shorter than this or longer, Aziraphale did love to lose his fingers in the silken dark red strands. He could’ve started to unbutton Crowley’s black henley, unbuckled his belt. His demon wouldn’t stop him from chasing his own pleasure.

But wasn’t that the point?

He wanted to _watch_ him chase that pleasure and couldn’t very well do so if he was engaged in providing it, now could he?

“Where?” he asked instead, and went where he was directed, laid how he was guided. Hands and knees on Crowley’s side of the bed, though his elbows started to wobble the moment that wicked mouth began pressing kisses into his skin. Right down his back, lingering on every roll and tonguing every slope. Aziraphale slid down, cheek falling to the sheets and fingers curling into them. “Crowley- Isn’t there- Wouldn’t you like me to do something for you?”

“Might later,” he mumbled against the small of Aziraphale’s back. His thumbs pressed into the dimples above the curve of his arse and his teeth grazed over soft skin to leave a flush of color behind. 

“ _Crowley_ ,” he gasped, a token protest or a plea for more. He was more used to it being a token protest. It normally took some time for him to lose himself to the pleasure. It was too easy to step back onto a pious pillar sometimes and worry about the sin, forget - even for a moment - that there was love here and no sin to be found. Surely something which felt so incredible was nothing but-

“Thinking too much, angel,” was whispered behind him and two slick fingers sank deep.

Aziraphale’s shoulders rolled up, head lifting from the bed so he could moan his pleasure skyward. He opened easily because they both expected him to, but Crowley’s hand moved slowly. His fingers scissored and thrust, wrist tireless, and he gripped one of Aziraphale’s thighs with his free hand.

“Don’t think,” Crowley encouraged and Aziraphale found it very easy to follow that instruction. His fists clenched and unclenched in the sheets, hips pushing back to meet each thrust of his hand. “That’s it, angel. You only have to feel. Just take it, that’s all I need from you.” More dampness coated his hand and a third finger worked its way in.

Aziraphale made a sound that should’ve been embarrassing when Crowley curled a digit and found his prostate, but he was letting his mind melt into a pool of pleasures. Like eating oysters or cake or drinking wine or a well-aged scotch - he could forget about even Crowley’s presence when those hit his senses just right, when he focused on flavor and let the endorphins rush from there.

This took a different sort of focus, but he found more than just endorphins rushed as he lost himself to rucking back into Crowley’s touch, as his body clenched in an attempt to suck those clever fingers deeper. His thighs pressed together as he tried to give himself some friction for his length, hanging hard and heavy and untouched, but Crowley pressed a knee between Aziraphale's and the scratch of dark denim against his bare legs made the angel cry out.

“O-oh-! _Please_ , Crowley, dearest-” His hand left and Aziraphale whined in protest.

“Look at you, you beautiful hedonist. Gagging for it.”

He would’ve made a quip about being unable to see himself or a protest over being called a hedonist, especially a _gagging_ one. He would’ve, absolutely, but he was _empty_. He reached out and grabbed the toy Crowley had brought to bed. White and gold were not going to suit, he decided, and punished Crowley in a different way. It grew thicker in his hand, longer, turned red. For the sheer aesthetic of it, he added a little demonic tail.

“Move,” he ordered, lubrication dripping from his own fingers to coat the red vibrator, and Crowley scrambled back.

The _groan_ he emitted was as pleasurable to Aziraphale as the sensation of being filled. Only the tip to start, the mushroom shape of the head stretching him further than Crowley’s fingers. “ _Fuck_ , angel, what I made wasn’t good enough?”

“Perfectly fine,” he managed, his own wrist flexing a little as he pushed the thick toy in a little deeper. “I thought you might want - _hnn_ \- more than f-fine.”

Aziraphale looked back, craning just a little to watch Crowley nodding, transfixed as Aziraphale began to very slowly ease it back out. In, out, in deeper still, out again. Aziraphale’s eyes closed as Crowley’s pleased noises encouraged him to move it a little faster, to make it a little thicker because, yes, alright, he was a bit of a hedonist and knowing Crowley was watching him do this was utterly _debauched_ in the best sort of way.

His gaze was like a physical thing, roving over him as thoroughly as his hands. Aziraphale shuddered under it, moaned and whined as he pleased himself. As he - dare he even think it - fucked himself with a toy demonic phallus. The thought sent shudders down his spine, his knees shifting further apart and his arse lifting higher into the air when he arched desperately. Another hand was suddenly on him, holding the toy in place. Aziraphale nearly fought the stillness, but let his own hand fall back to the sheets. He felt his hole clenching around the intrusion, rim fluttering, but it stayed where the demon wanted it.

“Crowley,” he moaned.

“I’m going to turn it on.” 

Aziraphale watched him move, picking up the small remote. He still looked entirely unmussed, henley rolled up to the elbows and hair still pulled back into that half-bun. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, but Aziraphale felt damp and quivering, entirely exposed, and shockingly okay with it. More than okay with it, if he was being honest. He nodded, eyes closing again when the vibrations started. Slow and gentle to begin, like a tingling that went down his thighs and up his spine. It sparked pleasantly in his mind and he shifted his knees to a more comfortable spot.

And suddenly it was stronger.

Breath hitching, Aziraphale’s hips jerked desperately and it was stronger still. He cried out, cheek rubbing against the sheets as that pleasant tingling became a steady quaking. The remote clicked again and Aziraphale reached out to grab a pillow to finally get some blessed _friction_. Crowley chuckled, low and wicked, when he tucked the pillow between his legs and humped his aching arousal against the fabric, but Aziraphale answered with a desperate moan. 

“What do you say, angel? Bit faster?”

The remote clicked and Aziraphale’s awareness narrowed, his focus entirely on the soft give of the pillow and the hard insistence of the toy within him. One of them, maybe both of them, made it just a little thicker and longer and Aziraphale wailed Crowley’s name.

There was no escaping sensation, mind a pool of helpless want and desperate keening noises. Something blindingly bright appeared and he couldn’t be bothered to open his eyes and find out what as his body moved of its own accord. Back and forth, chasing the high of release now, giving his demon exactly what he’d asked for and a bit more besides.

“Your halo’s showing. Fuck,” Crowley breathed. “Look at you.”

There wasn’t another click of the remote, the highest setting reached, but the vibrations increased in intensity anyway. The steady _vrrr_ was a filthy backdrop to the even more filthy sounds spilling from an angel’s lips.

“Close,” he gasped as he desperately, eagerly, greedily firmed the pillow beneath him to better rut against it. “O- _oh_ \- So- So very-”

“Faster?” Crowley teased, and the threat alone was enough. The _thought_ of more pushed him so sharply over the edge that his wings very nearly burst free, but Crowley would have to watch that next time. This time, he watched Aziraphale’s hips stutter out of rhythm, watched the pillowcase darken with the wet of his seed, watched his rosy-cheeked arse bounce, watched Aziraphale’s cherry red lips part on an overwhelmed, wordless wail.

He watched him fall apart and then shudder, shake, shiver as the high of release ebbed and overstimulation began to set in.

Slowly, probably too slowly based on the helpless jerks of Aziraphale’s hips, Crowley lowered the intensity of the vibrations until it stopped and Aziraphale was left panting into the sheets. He reached out, fingers stroking through soft white-blond curls. “Alright, angel?”

He nodded, taking comfort in the gentle petting while his body continued to clench and flutter around the thick vibrator. He watched Crowley’s gaze continue to flick up to his curves, filled arse still held up in the air. His halo, the light softening as he settled, was reflected in those golden eyes. Aziraphale shifted his hips, watching Crowley follow the little flick of the demon tail, and smiled.

“Again.”

Crowley’s gaze fell, meeting Aziraphale’s. “ _Wot_.”

Excitement rippled between them, Aziraphale’s arousal stirring faster than any human could ever hope to achieve. “Again,” he repeated, and Crowley’s wicked smile blossomed.

 _Click_.

**Author's Note:**

> If you aren't subbed to Whiteley's [patreon right here](https://www.patreon.com/Whiteley_Foster/posts) you are missing out on some A+ quality content  
> Thanks so much for the x-rated inspo!
> 
> And find me on tumblr at [Syl-Writes-Stuff](https://syl-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)!


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